The Adventures of Lydia
by TheFantasyNerd
Summary: The Dragonborn has come. Only problem? She's a bipolar, insane Argonian who tends to run while her companion fights. This is the story of Skyrim, from Lydia's point of view. T for lots of stabbing, rampages, and Shouting at chickens.
1. Chapter 1: An Odd Visitor

I enjoy playing Skyrim, with my Argonian. I generally have her act weird in town, and she's a very bipolar character. Thus, I got to thinking: What does her usual Companion, Lydia, think of their adventures? This is a story of the Dragonborn, as seen by her housecarl. Hope you enjoy! :P

**Chapter 1: Meeting the Dragonborn**

Lydia was quietly eating in Dragonsreach, sitting at the broad wooden table in the middle of the main hall. She currently served as a guard of Whiterun, but she had botched up a simple assignment and was now stuck in the Jarl's longhouse. She was bored out of her mind, and it was apparent-she sat with listless eyes, picking at her food and blankly watching Irileth and the Jarl converse. Hearing about the rumours of dragons, which her fellow guards told, didn't help. Lydia longed to go out and see the world, and to have some adventures.

How often she would regret that thought, in the weeks and months to come.

The doors of Dragonsreach suddenly flew open, sending the guard flying. As he regained his balance and turned, he muttered some nonsense about a sweetroll. (The other guards were terribly weird, Lydia had decided long ago.) However, Lydia's attention was rapidly drawn to the bizarre character who had just raced in.

It was a young female Argonian, wearing a bizarre assortment of armour.

_It's as though she just picked that stuff up from dead bodies, _Lydia thought with a smirk. The armour, which she recognized by the blue accentuating it, was Stormcloak garb. The hood looked like something a mage would wear. Oddly, the lizard was deciding to run around without shoes. She had a cheap iron sword belted to her waist, and a quiver of iron arrows on her back.

The Argonian started jumping up and down silently as she ran up the stairs toward the Jarl. Then, to Lydia's surprise, she jumped into the fire and began to jump, crouch, and twirl around. Lydia, the Jarl, and a couple of guards stared in confusion. Irileth, after a couple of moments, drew her sword and approached the mad being, who then turned and ran, jumping onto the table. After a couple of moments of Hide and Seek, she returned and said something to the Jarl's guard, who then sheathed her sword and let the lizard pass. Lydia watched in confusion as the Argonian hopped up the stairs to the Jarl.

"Who might you be?" he asked warily.

The Argonian lowered her hood, and Lydia-who had stolen a bit closer-jumped backwards at seeing the lizard's head.

With a blank, bizarre grin on her orange, red, blue, yellow, purple, and green-covered face, the Argonian casually said a short phrase. It was simple, but it summed up the strange being's apparent insanity pretty clearly.

"I am Fishbreath. Fishbreath, the Argonian."


	2. Chapter 2: Are You Kidding Me?

Hello! I have a few points that I forgot to make before Chapter 1, so here they are:

1: I don't own the rights to Skyrim or any of its content. Except Fishbreath, who was designed by me. And named by my dad. :p

2: The storylines aren't going to be perfectly accurate; It's been awhile since I played these bits.

3: Dialogue is rather edited, for the sake of making a good story.

Alright, on with chapter 2..

**Chapter 2: You've Got to be Joking.**

_Fishbreath? What sort of a name is that? Even for lizardfolk, that's idiotic! _

Lydia thought, with an inward sneer. Irileth, however, seemed to notice, for she shot Lydia a warning glare. The young Nordic woman quickly assumed a deathbed-appropriate expression, which became more genuine as she listened to the stranger speak.

"Riverwood calls for aid. They fear the dragon that attacked Helgen," She said, focused and calm.

"Did you see the dragon?" The Jarl asked.

"Yes, I got a fine view of it as the Imperials in Helgen prepared to lop off my head," the lizard replied dryly.

"….Alright, then….We will send troops to Riverwood at once!" The Jarl abruptly stated, changing the topic.

"But, my Jarl…The Jarl of Falkreath will see that as a direct provocation!" his advisor protested.

Shooing the protesting man off, the Jarl addressed the lizard once more.

"Thank you..Fishbreath..for bringing me this information. Come, we need to speak to my court wizard."

Lydia and Irileth exchanged a glance as the Jarl stood and walked towards the side of his palace, followed by the odd adventurer. Lydia then shrugged, and meandered back to the table. She glanced up as the Argonian suddenly pelted past, sprinting out of Dragonsreach, knocking over the door guard once again.

"Where is she going, Jarl?" Irileth asked as he returned to his throne.

"Bleak Falls Barrow," he replied dismissively. "She'll probably get killed. One less thing we have to worry about."

Lydia silently agreed, and put all thoughts of the insane creature out of her head.

Several weeks later, the residents of Dragonsreach had practically forgotten about Fishbreath the Argonian. She had certainly been killed, they thought. Besides, there were worse things to worry about, such as dragons. Thus, it came as a surprise when the doors flew open, knocking the poor guard over, again. A raggedy lizard dashed inside, flying into the wizard's lab.

Lydia, gnawing on a loaf of bread, didn't notice right away, until the Argonian returned out to the main room to speak with the Jarl.

"She's alive?" Lydia muttered softly in surprise. Upon observance, it became clear that the lizard hadn't gone straight to running the errand for the wizard. Her armour was now more uniform, although Lydia disliked the look of the sleek, form-fitting dark leather. It looked ominous, wicked, even. She also had a steel sword belted on, and Lydia was surprised to recognize it as a Skyforge weapon. Had the Argonian joined the Companions?

Her contemplation was interrupted by Irileth rushing up, interrupting the Jarl and Fishbreath. After a brisk, tense conversation, all three bustled off, to the back room. Lydia followed in curiosity.

"Dragon! At the..western..watchtower! It was..breathing..fire..I don't know..if anyone..else escaped!" A young guard stood doubled over, breathing heavily after what must have been a mad dash.

"Thank you, you did well, coming to get help. Go to the barracks and get some rest, we'll take care of it," the Jarl said comfortingly, then he turned to Irileth. "I need you to go fight that dragon. Take some men, head out there, and kill it. Be careful."

Irileth nodded brusquely and left. The Jarl turned to the Argonian. "You have the most experience with dragons. Please, go help." Fishbreath grimaced uneasily, but she nodded and ran off. The court wizard voiced an interest in going too, but the Jarl basically told him to shut up and go back to work. Lydia slipped back down to her seat at the table. She knew better than to ask to go.

A couple of hours later, Irileth staggered into Dragonsreach. Her hair was singed, and there was a smear of soot on her normally sleek, perfect armour. She bore an expression of irritation and confusion.

The Argonian followed her. She, however, looked fairly clean and untouched, though she had a dazed look in her orange eyes. Irileth seemed to be ignoring her, as she determinedly marched up to the waiting Jarl.

"The dragon is dead. My men and I brought it down." She said, stiffly. "We lost one soldier, and I sent the rest to the barracks, after they cleaned some of the debris up from the tower."

"What about Fishbreath?" he asked in confusion.

"After shooting a couple of spells at it, she hid behind a rock and waited until we had distracted it before coming back out," Irileth's voice was disgusted, and indignant. "However, after it died, its flesh burned. Bright lights flew from it to her, and after it died, she yelled. It knocked us all backward, and when we re-entered the city, we heard a deep voice from the sky."

The Jarl froze, and turned to Fishbreath. "What's this, now?"

She shrugged, nonchalant. "Turns out I may be something called Dragonborn."

The Jarl pressed a hand to his face. "Please..Eight Divines..don't let this be the case."

He finally lifted his head, with a grim, reluctant, but determined expression upon his face. "That voice was the Greybeards. Calling you to them, in High Hrothgar." Sitting silently for a few moments, he added, "You have done my hold a service..I guess. Thus, I name you Thane of Whiterun. Here, have this axe, and you can buy a house in the city." He appeared to be trying to hurry her along, to get her out of his home. Lydia agreed with this reasoning. The sooner the Argonian left, the better off they'd be. An Argonian, Thane of Whiterun? Hopefully she'd die on High Hrothgar before she came back to the hold. Lydia hoped not to see the cowardly, mad lizard ever again.

"Oh, and see that woman at the table down there? That's Lydia. She's going to be your Housecarl."


	3. Chapter 3: A Skull and a Giant Mishap

…

So sorry I haven't posted in forever! I've been really busy, and, I'll be honest, I sort of forgot about this. So, I'll try to make this chapter longer. I should warn you, I definitely won't be posting the next couple of weeks, I have some training for a prospective summer job, and it'll take all of my next two weekends.

Another sidenote: Lydia actually, in the game, didn't accompany me to most of these places. I preferred Marcurio-he was a pretty badass wizard and Fishbreath was married to him. Sadly, he acted like an idiot and charged into a room full of Falmer, and vanished. I guess he died.

On with ze story, though!

**Chapter 3; Housewarming, Shopping, and Giant Trolling.**

_What? Haha, I must have heard wrong..why are they looking at me, though?...Oh, damn. _Lydia thought, freezing as she stared up at the throne, where Jarl Balgruff and Fishbreath were staring at her. The Argonian soon shrugged.

"Alright, a companion. Lovely. Now, where do I buy a house? I have so much stuff to stash," she rambled. As she turned to settle the house deed, the Jarl approached Lydia. If looks could kill, he'd be very, very dead.

"I'm required to give the Thane a housecarl," he said.

"Couldn't you just slip her some poison? Or call upon the Dark Brotherhood?"

"You shouldn't say that. Besides, the Dark Brotherhood doesn't exist."

"What about that random kid up in Windhelm? You know, how we're so desperate for gossip that we start talking about some child, miles away in a different hold, who's supposedly trying to contact a long-gone bunch of murderous crazies?"

"You know that I don't have a clue where the guards hear all their rumors. Now, off to Breezehome with you. At least this'll get you out of Dragonsreach, eh?" he tried to make a joke. Lydia grimaced.

"Or it'll get me with my head chopped off by bandits. Or held captive by Forsworn. Or Shouted to bits by those old men on the mountain. Or eaten by a dragon.."

"Lydia, this is an order. You ARE going to Breezehome, and you ARE Thane Fishbreath's housecarl. This conversation is over." Balgruff stomped back to his throne as Fishbreath suddenly zoomed past. Lydia remained where she was. The lizard returned.

"Oi! You're my housecarl, aren't you? Follow me!" She complained.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You have to give me an order."

"I just did! Come on, to Breezehouse!"

"Breezehome."

"Same thing!"

And so, they left Dragonsreach. The Thane soon became lost, running past her new house several times, getting distracted by Heimskr, and beating up some woman in the inn. Lydia followed in a sullen silence. When they finally made it to the new, humble dwelling, Fishbreath swept off, leaving Lydia to sit beside the door. After waiting for a few hours, she clambered up the steps, impatiently wondering where her Thane had gone. Maybe the Argonian had had a sudden heart attack. Hopefully.

No, she was standing by her bed. Weapons and armor lay scattered around her, as well as a human skull, some soul gems, and a pile of dragon bones and scales.

'My Thane? What are you doing?" Lydia inquired stiffly.

"I don't know what to take! I also need to sell some things, but what should I store here?"

"The dragon..bits.. should probably stay here, as they are heavy. Do you wish me to throw out this skull?" She added, grimacing as she plucked it off the ground.

"NOOOOO!"

Lydia found herself sprawled in the hallway, Her thane had tackled her, snatching back the skull.

"How dare you! Threatening to throw poor Bob out! He's my constant companion and friend! How. Dare. You! Out! Wait downstairs!" The Argonian shrieked, waving one fist. The other hand was clutching the grinning skull.

Poor, bemused Lydia turned and tramped down the stairs, listening to crooning words of comfort as Fishbreath talked to Bob the Skull.

Sometime later, Fishbreath came down the stairs. She said not a word to Lydia about the Bob the Skull incident, but merely gestured to her as she walked out. Lydia followed her up the hill to the market stalls. Fishbreath promptly walked to the jewelry stand. Lydia watched as her Thane sold a few gold necklaces and a pair of silver rings. She then looked on with consternation as Fishbreath picked up a shining circlet, of gold and emerald.

_Why is she looking at that? _Lydia wondered. Her question was soon answered as Fishbreath promptly paid for it and put it on her head.

"I'm like royalty! Fishbreath, Almighty Ruler of Madness!"

"My thane, that would be the Daedric demon Sheogorath," Lydia muttered as they walked down towards the gates of Whiterun.

"I am him! And he is me! We're a little bit of each other, really!" cackled the Argonian. Lydia chose to ignore this statement and merely focused on the walk away from town.

They soon left the road, journeying into the plains around the Hold. They were attacked by a pack of wolves, two of which Lydia mowed down with her sword. The third, she was surprised, was neatly roasted in a jet of flame. Fishbreath idly dragged their corpses into a pile, then continued running. Lydia felt a pang of unease. They were soon going to run into..

'Giants! How cool!" Fishbreath exclaimed. "Are they friendly? Can we talk to them? Will-BY THE DIVINES IS THAT A MAMMOTH?"

"My Thane, No!" Lydia warned, but she was too late. Fishbreath was sprinting brazenly toward the mammoths and giants. Lydia watched in stunned silence as the Argonian ran up to the feet of one giant. She seemed to realize her mistake when the beast started making threatening sounds and waving its club. But, instead of running, she pulled out her sword and whacked it.

_My thane just whacked a giant on the leg. A giant. A freaking giant. She whacked it on the leg._

Lydia continued to watch as Fishbreath was sent sky-high.

_I'll give this Argonian one thing-she's quite amusing._

So, did you like? :p

Fishbreath does carry a good-luck skull around with her at all times. And who hasn't run up to a giant, only to get sent into orbit?

Until next time.


	4. Chapter 4: The Dark Side

Hello! Sorry it's been so long. I'm a very busy person, and what not. =P

On with the story, though!

…

Lydia jogged in the direction Fishbreath had flown. She found the Argonian, sitting with a bemused expression, in the stream outside Honningbrew Meadery. She had escaped extreme harm by casting a healing spell and guzzling down several potions.

"HI, Lydia!" She called, seeming to be slightly out of it.

"My Thane?"

"Ah, I accidently drank a..skooma. They were much more potent and awesome down in Cyrodil, but they still don't fail to make me a bit slap-happy," babbled the Thane as she staggered to her feet and promptly began to stumble off, back to Whiterun.

"Are we returning to the Hold so soon, my Thane?"

"No..We're gonna catch a carriage to Riften..I need to go to Ivarstead."

Lydia sighed. "Of all places..Riften..I despise cutpurses, thieves and scoundrels."

"Now, now..they're not that bad. Not that I would know or anything," answered her Thane cheerily, overhearing. Soon, they were boarded on a carriage, and, listening to the driver's incessant rambling, they began the lengthy ride into the Rift.

The moment they landed at the Riften Stables, Fishbreath jumped down and ran north. Lydia followed grimly. She soon froze in alarm as the Argonian stripped down to her undergarments and jumped into the lake.

"My Thane!"

"What?"

"We are in _Skyrim! _The northernmost province? It's mad to attempt to swim in these waters-you freeze!"

"Oh…" Fishbreath shrugged. "I don't feel cold…it's fine. Come on!"

Lydia grimaced. "This is a bad idea," she muttered, but she jumped in. Shivering slightly, she swam clumsily, still clad in iron armor, after the Argonian, who took to the water like, well, like a giant waterbreathing lizard-person.

They swam. And they swam. AND swam. Fishbreath didn't slow down for a few hours, at which point Lydia was blue and half-conscious. Then Fishbreath hopped onto the bank, called, "Come on, Lydia!" and sprinted off, donning a set of mage robes. Pulling her armor straight, the shivering Nord clumsily followed.

They reached Ivarstead a few hours before twilight. Fishbreath bounded into the inn, renting a room for herself and Lydia. She took a brief rest, while Lydia dutifully watched, although she cast a longing glance out to the main room, where a warm fire blazed and mead flowed.

"You can go out, you know," a voice rasped, causing Lydia to jump and turn.

"My Thane!"

"Yeah, yeah. Go on, go out and get yourself some food. Then get some rest.. I have….business… to attend to."

"Are you taking the Seven Thousand Steps? For, as Housecarl, I ought.."

"No. We'll do that tomorrow. Go on, get some food."

Lydia, having sat down with a bottle of Black-Briar Mead and some venison, glanced up a half-hour later. Her Thane was quietly walking towards the door. Her housecarl frowned, for she noticed a strange light in the Argonian's eyes. Waiting until the door slid shut, Lydia quietly followed.

Not realizing Lydia was behind, Fishbreath walked a steady, direct path to the river. She forded it calmly, then turned towards a run-down house. Pursuing her, Lydia walked into the only sheltered part of the building to find the Argonian standing over a sleeping beggar-man.

_If she was just coming to speak with him, I wonder why I wasn't brought along. Perhaps because it was so trivial a mission.._

Then, Lydia's eyes widened and her jaw dropped in horror as Fishbreath drew her deadly Skyforge sword. The beggar started to awaken as the lethal blade sliced down, tearing his throat in a wound that would slowly, painfully kill him. His petrified, fading eyes locked into the burning flames of the Argonian. When she spoke, it wasn't in her usual light, somewhat idiotic voice. No, this was a low, dark voice, the voice of shadows and ice, of Death incarnate. She smiled at him, poisonously and morbidly.

"To the Void I send you. Give my Dread Father my greetings," she hissed. The beggar let out a gurgled cry before the shadows claimed him, and Lydia watched in horrified shock.

Fishbreath, the Dovahkiin and insane Thane, was an Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood.

..o..

Yeah, so that didn't really fit the "Humor" Category. I really wanted to write about Fishbreath's other side, though. =P

Until next time.


	5. AUTHORS UPDATE

AUTHOR'S UPDATE:

I'm really sorry that I haven't updated this in forever…. I'm just such a busy person. However, I'm traveling later this week and thus may get an opportunity to update the chronicles of Lydia and her bizarre thane. ;)

Thanks for your patience, and I hope we'll get a new chapter updated soon!

~The Fantasy Nerd


	6. Chapter 5: Trolling

Heyyy there! Sorry it's been forever. Even though it is summertime and I'm out of school, my life is being exceptionally busy right now. So thanks for your patience, and for the reviews/etc.! On with our adventure!

**CHAPTER 5: TROLLING**

_This isn't good. This is downright bad. What the hell do I do? _ Lydia frantically questioned herself. Slowly backing away from the ramshackle hut, in which her Thane was muttering some obscene ritualistic words toward the Dark Brotherhood deities, she turned and crept towards the river. After slipping on some rocks to cross fairly stealthily, she considered her options.

_I can't just say anything. She's a murderer-she would kill me quite cheerfully. But that means I can't run off to tell Jarl Balgruff-or the nearest Jarl. She'd realize that I knew. By Talos, she's much more scary than we thought…I know what I can do! People who commit crimes always have a guilty conscience – I can trick her into telling me, and I can take it to a Jarl! Then a murderer will be behind bars, I'll get to go back to Whiterun, and they'll take me seriously again! _

Content in her reasoning, the Nord returned to the inn, and cheerfully downed the rest of her mead. Not long after she drained the bottle, Fishbreath slid through the door. Lydia brightly stood up.

"My Thane! I wondered where you had gone! No trouble, I assume? Care for a drink, or for a honey-nut-treat? They're very good.." _Let's see your guilt, Argonian! _

However, to Lydia's amazement, alarm, and irritation, Fishbreath smiled widely. "Food sounds wonderful right now! I'll take a slab of raw beef, two just-caught fish – no, not cooked – , a sweetroll, and three carrots. And a butterbeer." [author: What? I couldn't resist. HP is awesome. :P]

"Alright…but we don't have butter-beer…would spiced wine be alright?" the serving-maid asked anxiously.

"Oh yeah…the works of that great new book-writer who lives down in Chorrol haven't made it to Skyrim yet… Wine is fine. Thank you." Fishbreath looked back at Lydia, who was wearing a look of revulsion and shock, which made for an interestingly ugly expression. "What's wrong, my dear? Venison too cooked? That's why I prefer my meat raw. Why don't you go to bed?"

Lydia complied, thinking less-than-polite thoughts.

Only to be roughly roused, what seemed like moments later.

"Ugh…huh? I told you this was a one-night-stand, why are you still here? Go away and let me sleep," she grumbled, apparently not awake.

"By Sithis – I mean, By AKATOSH, what the oblivion? Wake up before you scare me!" yelled a distinctly not-drunken-guard voice. Lydia opened her eyes in mortification to see a pair of brilliant orange slits inches from her.

"ARRRRRGGGHH!" She screamed, jumping backwards and hitting her head against a wall. Fishbreath stepped backwards.

"Don't yell so loud. I have sensitive hearing," she growled in annoyance. "Hurry up and get ready – it's two hours before sunrise, and I'd like to get a good start on our climb up the mountain. Hurry up, and I won't ask for the glorious details of this one-night-stand of yours."

Needless to say, Lydia was packed and ready to go in a record-setting four minutes.

"I still may ask for the details of this one-night-stand. Just so you know. Anyways, let's be off!" Fishbreath proclaimed, and set off.

It was two hours after sunrise. They'd been on the road for three and a half hours. Surely, with the Argonian's speed and the Nord's dogged pursuit of her Thane, they'd have made good progress. But no.

"One hundred thirty-three…one hundred thirty-four…one hundred thirty-five…Oblivion take this! I lost count again!"

"ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-FIVE! ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-SIX IS NEXT! PLEASE! PLEASE, STOP COUNTING AND KEEP WALKING!" Lydia practically screamed, driven to tears. Fishbreath started in surprise.

"Oh? One-thirty-six, you say? Why are you so determined to count the steps, Lydia? Why don't we just hurry up the mountain?" With that, the Argonian ran off, leaving Lydia to fume in frustration as she attempted to catch up.

She lost sight of her Thane rather quickly; Lydia knew, however, that the Argonian hadn't slipped to her doom off the icy slope(such a pity). She kept finding the bodies of icewolves, brutally slashed in the throat by a distinctively sharp blade. Lydia steadily trekked on, even though her toes were numb and she was hungry. The monotony of the climb was broken, however, after a couple of hours.

"Aaaahhhhhh! Dragggggggooooonnnnnn!" screamed a voice. A wild-looking woman, clad in robes, came dashing around a bend in the trail. Apparently a pilgrim, she wasn't sticking around. The sound of other feet crunching in snow soon followed in her path, even as Lydia froze, unsure what to do.

"Aaaaahhhhh! Draggggonnnnnn! Kill it, Lydia! Killitkillitkillit!" Fishbreath wailed, streaking down and barreling into Lydia.

"Awough!" Lydia grumbled in objection to being shoved. "You're the Dragonborn! Kill him yourself!"

Their dispute was abruptly halted as the dragon itself swooped overhead. Fishbreath dove into hiding between a tree and a shrine, leaving Lydia to sigh and unsheathe her sword. She hacked the dragon several times, causing it to bleed badly. Another pilgrim had returned, and was blasting lightning spells while the dragon was distracted by a goat. Attempting to pursue the dragon on foot when it took off, Lydia tumbled down a steep patch of path, and promptly was knocked out when she ran into a tree.

Hours, or maybe seconds later, she was woken by the sound of a dying dragon – namely, an angry roar and an unpleasant crunch – and by a successful cheer. Standing woozily, she looked up to see Fishbreath dancing around the dragon's corpse. As the corpse disintegrated, Lydia noticed only one of Fishbreath's arrows – the rest of the wounds were either caused by Lydia or the M.I.A. pilgrim.

"Yay! I killed it! Killed it dead! Look, Lydia!" Fishbreath called. Lydia swore under her breath, but she immediately had to start running after the Argonian as she continued up the path. It wasn't long until the Argonian had started racing back down, towards her infuriated, exhausted, and confused Thane.

"Just wolves, he said! Just beware of falling, he said! A skilled adventurer like yourself will be fine, he said! If that isn't an angry Frost Troll, then I don't know what is! Kill it, Lydia! Killitkillitkillit!"

_Why, Eight Divines and Talos? Why me?_

…

Yay! Chapter 5 complete!

This is exactly what I do whenever a dragon or scary opponent comes around-let the follower handle it. ;P

And if you don't like Harry Potter, well…sorry, I guess.. I happen to be a huge fan, so I decided to fit it in there somehow. :P Little did you know that J. wrote her books in Chorrol.

And the one-night-stand? If you don't understand what that means…well you're either naïve or far too young to be reading T-rated fanfics of an M-rated game. If anyone wants to make a rated-M fic of Lydia's…stand with a guard, be my guest-I won't be writing it. :P

Until next time..

OH WAIT. I may be posting an unrelated one-shot, a quick romance thing between my other character and Brynjolf. Rated T, probably. Check it out when/if I post it!

-The Fantasy Nerd


	7. Chapter 6: Old Guys and The Force

Sorry I'm so terrible about posting here! :P

Let us continue.

**CHAPTER 6: OLD GUYS AND PRETTY LIGHTS**

Lydia bravely went to attack the Troll. It was definitely in vain, seeing as how two swipes of the ugly fuzzy beast's paw had her on the ground, struggling to catch her breath. However, her attempt to attack gave Fishbreath the opportunity to flee on up the trail, towards their destination. Lydia regained her balance and stumbled after the Argonian and angry monster. This pattern continued for around a half hour. Lydia would catch up to the troll, hit it, promptly be stunned, and then get back up and chase after it again. When they reached the tall stone structure, the creature lost interest in his scaly prey. Knocking the Nord down again, he loped back down to his icy lair, leaving Lydia to wheeze and clutch her bruised sides as she staggered to Fishbreath's side. The Argonian was pulling a bag of goods out of her sack, with a confused expression.

"How in the name of the Night Mot - the name of Nice Martin the emperor, I mean – did this food that guy told me to deliver stay nice and organized?" she wondered out loud, before tossing it into a chest. "Oh, Lydia. There you are…what took you so long? Here, carry this food and these furs for me; I'm almost over-encumbered."

Lydia muttered under her breath as some slightly squashed sweetrolls and a couple of smelly sabrecat skins were thrust into her arms. She stowed them away, only to look up and realize that Fishbreath had darted on without her. Lydia blearily trotted in pursuit, nearly being squashed by the large, heavy door as it swung shut. She stood perfectly still for one moment, as a mental image of a fuzzy horse, and some statement about a Daedra, flashed across her mind randomly. Then she walked into the old building.

"My Thane?" the Nord coughed, looking around blearily through the slightly-smoky room.

Fishbreath suddenly trotted through the wide hall.

"Mr Ooolllllldddd mannnnnnn! Where are youuuuuuuuuuu?" her harsh voice sing-songed. Lydia noticed the bouncing white arrow coming down the hall, a few moments before a disgruntled elderly man, robed in a grey-blue outfit and wearing an appropriate beard.

"We live on an Aedra-forsaken mountain… I shouldn't have to deal with pranksters and door-to-door-blacksmiths. By Shor, who is it?"

"I believe you called me?" Fishbreath asked snarkily. She then deepened her voice into a taunting boom. "DOVAHKIIN," she rumbled, causing the old man to freeze. Lydia would have thought it quite comical, if she didn't feel sympathetic. She stared at the man with an I-feel-sorry-for-you-I've-been-there look.

"You-you're Dragonborn..?" he murmured unhappily. He then shook his head with a resigned, dutiful gleam in his squinting eyes. "Forgive me my lack of manners. I am Arngeir, one of the Greybeards. Yes, we summoned the Dovahkiin, and you have come. First, let us test to make sure you are truly the Dragonborn, though. Hit the targets with your Thu'um." Lydia figured he was desperately clinging to the hope that Fishbreath was a lunatic fraud. But, as one of the other silent, wrinkly-faced men brought to life a ghostly spectre of himself, Lydia herself first saw-and felt-her Thane's dragon-soul power.

"**FUS." **

The spectre wavered and died. Lydia happened to be standing slightly in the voice's path, gasped as her hair was whipped back from her face, and her eyes watered. _That was the legendary Voice of the Dragonborn? I expected it to be a bit more….powerful. _She was pondering this, and completely missed part of Fishbreath's education. The Greybeard's warning call of "Nord! Move!" came an instant too late.

"**FUS ROH."**

Lydia staggered back a couple of feet. She nearly stumbled under the power of the two words.

"Awesome! I'm like, a Jedi! The Force is strong with this one!" Fishbreath crowed. Lydia, shaking her head to regain her bearings, as well as the Greybeards, bore identical confused expressions.

"Yes…well….follow Master Borri out into the courtyard, and he will continue your…education…" Arngeir trailed off, seeming to lose concentration as he struggled to recall if, in all his studies and meditation, he had ever heard of a so-called "Jedi". Lydia thought about following out into the courtyard, but opted to huddle near the fireplace in the chilly fortress.

Sometime later, she was following Fishbreath back down the Seven Thousand Steps, when suddenly, a new Dragonlike voice tore from the Argonian's sharp-toothed mouth.

"**WULD."**

"I'm so freaking fastttttt!" screamed Fishbreath as she shot like an arrow from a Daedric bow down the slope.

Lydia slowed to a halt, watching the blur that was her Thane launch down the slope.

"Damn it."


	8. Chapter 7: Windhelm's a Howl

Lydia sighed and rolled her shoulders. They'd been walking for a really long time. And, certainly not towards Ustengrav, like they were supposed to be. Where the ridiculous Argonian was headed, Lydia didn't know. The last road-sign she had seen had said "Windhelm this way". Lydia hoped Fishbreath hadn't decided to go visit Ulfric Stormcloak. That egocentric Nord would surely kill a beast-race woman as obnoxious as the lizard. Besides which, Lydia feared that Fishbreath would attempt to join the Stormcloaks. Which might cause tension between the Jarl and herself.

Lydia's pauldrons clinked as she ducked her head from the bitter wind. Through her frosted eyelashes, she could see Fishbreath some distance ahead. She had a much lighter burden than the Nord, who was sworn to carry her Thane's burdens. Fishbreath still took full advantage of that: Lydia had several sets of armor, a couple of useless broadswords, and two troll skulls tucked into her pack. Her back HURT.

They reached the Hold one hour before nightfall. Although she felt uneasy in the heart of Stormcloak territory, Lydia was eager to reach Candlehearth Hall. A good pint of ale would do her well. But, naturally, Fishbreath pelted straight past the welcoming inn, straight for the palace. "My Thane, the Jarl will probably not be holding audiences at this time," Lydia said warningly. The Argonian didn't hear, or didn't listen. With nary a glance at the door-guards, she shoved the door open and walked in. Lydia followed, halting hesitantly at the door.

From here, she could see her thane talking to the Jarl, but she could not hear their low-voiced conversation. Fishbreath ran back five minutes later. "Ice Wraith teeth from the far north! Ain't nobody got time for that!" She exclaimed as she passed. Lydia frowned. "Do you intend to join the Legion, then?"  
>"Of course not! I won't join either for the time being. Ice wraith teeth, pah!"<p>

The Argonian had a look in her eyes, a look Lydia was worried about. She only became more concerned when the Argonian lowered her voice and shoved Lydia against the wall, where the guards couldn't see what she was saying. "Lydia. I need you to stay close. And don't. Freak. Out." She hissed. Lydia only nodded, feeling anxious as the Argonian strolled to the residential section, where no guards currently were. Her gleaming eyes met with Lydia's for a second, until she doubled over. Lydia was frozen in shock as dense fur started sprouting over the softly snarling Argonian's body. It was seconds before a giant werewolf raised her head to the heavens and roared. No one had saw. The wolf glared at Lydia, before turning and charging off. "Wh-but-what?" Lydia murmured. "Argonians...can't be...werewolves... Can they?"

She groaned, and briefly contemplated stabbing herself in the face with her axe. "Why did I ever join the guard?" She muttered, before running after the werewolf. She caught up to it just in time to see it shredding a young woman with broad claws. The woman didn't even have the opportunity to scream or cry out; she was rent in two in a matter of heartbeats. Lydia frowned. The werewolf had passed several people to reach the young woman, as if targeting her specifically.

The wolf roared defiantly, crouched above the woman's body. She then turned and fled, towards the main gate of the city. Lydia followed uneasily. The wolf turned just before she reached the gates. Narrow, golden eyes glared at the approaching city guards, before she let out a screeching, snarling howl, that caused several bold men to turn and flee. Lydia almost ran herself, but she shook the terror off as the wolf shoved the doors open and fled out of the city. The werebeast dashed along the bridge on all four of her paws, Lydia sprinting after. The wolf suddenly stopped, seeing several guards ahead. Many had run from the city as well. They were all waving bows and arrows. It didnt seem like they'd noticed Lydia. The Nord gasped as the wolf suddenly leapt over the side of the bridge, plummeting down to the frigid water.

"Oh. Gods. Why me?" Lydia muttered, before inhaling sharply, stepping up, and diving.

Why couldn't she have been made Housecarl to a simple, old, normal Nord?


	9. Chapter 8: You Must be Joking

Hi y'all! I am SO sorry about the hiatus. Life's a bitch, as it were; I've been super busy. Anyways, let us be off on another Argonian anecdote.

Chapter 8: You must be joking..

Lydia popped to the surface of the icy water with a gasp, struggling against the choppy current. Although cold Skyrim weather ran through her veins, she wasn't impervious to the glacier-fed chills of her homeland's rivers. It didn't help that she was wearing a mismatched set of heavy iron armor. Keeping her head afloat, she saw a great black shape ahead, presumably the werewolf...or Thane Fishbreath.

Lydia kept her eyes on the brute, lightly treading water as the current dragged her along. By Talos, was it cold. Fortunately, the beast soon started swimming for the banks, heaving up onto the shore. Lydia followed, maintaining a safe distance. The animal looked up at her, and she instinctively placed a hand on her sword-hilt, hoping the metal weapon was not damaged. The werewolf snorted, as if amused, before suddenly shaking out its dense pelt, spraying water at the already-soaked Lydia. When the woman, spluttering, looked up after wiping her eyes, the Argonian was standing there, clutching a robe around her otherwise-bare body.

"Did I never tell you? I am a werewolf," she said cheerfully, through clattering teeth. "Now, I may have just gotten a severe bounty in Windhelm, so...staying away from there for awhile. We're now in Riften hold, yes? Excellent, that's where I need to go. I must have a wedding."

Lydia choked. "A...wedding...?"

"Yes! It's high time I marry my love. He's down there anyways... Come on!" she was shrugging on a dressy shirt and jumping into a pair of pants as she started running. At this point, Lydia's only reaction was a deep sigh.

They reached Riften after two days' journey. It would have been much shorter, but the Argonian had delighted in the hot springs, and insisted on playing there. Lydia had, in the meantime, been forced to fight two bears and a pack of wolves.

They entered the city, which was shabby to Lydia's eyes. Fishbreath seemed to be delighted; her orange eyes lit up and a faint grin appeared to play around her lipless mouth. Lydia couldn't help but notice how the Argonian shot furtive, meaningful looks at first a pale woman on one of the bridges, then at a big ginger-maned Nord clad in fine clothes, who was standing in the market. They looped around the city meaninglessly, for the Argonian was soon leading them back to the local inn, the Bee and Barb. Lydia felt her curiosity growing. Who, by the Divines, would marry an Argonian, let alone one such as Fishbreath?

She watched as the Argonian rushed to the corner, practically leaping onto an arrogant-looking man in mage's robes.  
>"Marcurio, meet Lydia. Lydia, this is my love, my Marcy-warcy," the Argonian crooned.<br>"Hello, dear. You've kept me waiting, do you want to visit the Temple? Or do you just need a master of the elements to watch your back?" he said in a haughty, yet slightly adorant, tone. He more or less ignored the Nord.  
>"Let's get married, you snarky little son of a bitch," the Argonian returned. Lydia had to fight down a snicker at the ridiculous banter.<p>

She felt more serious though, when, the next morning, she was standing by the door of Mara's temple, watching as the Thane and the Imperial wed. What was going on? Someone loved Fishbreath, enough to wed her? How much skooma was this wizard on?

Ah well, thank Talos; they couldn't have children...


End file.
